The Loo
by Honeychurch Lallybroch
Summary: Hermione and Ron have an audience, and Ginny is trapped in a toilet stall.
1. Default Chapter Title

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The Loo

Part One: Moaning Myrtle's

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Disclaimer: This all belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blame her. 

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For no good reason she could currently recall, Ginny was attempting to coax Moaning Myrtle out of the S-bend in the second stall without getting herself covered in water. "Ah, come on now, Myrtle," she wheedled. "I know you're down there." She was answered by a large Glug! accompanied by a spray of water. Ginny jumped back quickly, barely managing to keep her robes dry. "Fine, then, if that's the way you want to be. I'm just going to sit up here ;and wait." Ginny made a face at the toilet bowl. She really didn't know why she bothered. Myrtle _enjoyed_ being miserable. She wasn't even sure that Myrtle cared at all that she took the time to visit her. 'Just because I'd hate it if everyone avoided me like they do Myrtle- but I'll bet she doesn't even notice. Still, it isn't like her not to even talk to me. ' Ginny had been coming to visit Myrtle for several years now, and never before had Myrtle avoided her, no matter how morose she may have been. Ginny was often lonely herself- she couldn't imagine what it was like to be so lonely and miserable that she'd voluntarily hang out in toilets. Besides, she reckoned she owed the ghost- she might very well be dead now in the Chamber of Secrets if it hadn't been for her. Ginny had almost shared the same fate as Myrtle, who had been killed 50 years ago when the young Voldemort- then Tom Riddle- had opened the Chamber of Secrets. 

It was still very painful for Ginny to remember her first year at Hogwarts. She had been so homesick, and so terribly in love with Harry Potter. She felt as if she understood him. More than that, she felt a tugging whenever she was near him- something indefinable but undeniable. Back then, she had been sure that he only needed a bit of nudging to see it, too. Now, she had accepted that it might never happen, but she still felt the connection. It was all very confusing, but of one thing she was certain: his fame just made everything more complicated. She knew what it was like to be surrounded by people and feel completely alone. Of course, "people" only applied to her brothers in the broadest general sense. They were bipedal, she'd give them that, but sorely confused by deeper emotions. A heart to heart conversation with Fred would lead to singed eyebrows at best, and Ginny longed for someone with whom she could be honest. She was so tired of secrets. She wanted to tell him that he didn't have to worry about all that stupid fame stuff with her, that she didn't want him to be a hero. She'd love him if he were the groundskeeper. She sighed. There wasn't much chance of them having that conversation, even if she didn't act like a complete ninny every time she saw him anymore. She blushed even thinking about it. She doubted she could have embarrassed herself more if she had tried- "His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad?" Ginny writhed at the remembrance. 

But that memory paled in comparison to the horror of Tom Riddle's diary. 

She could fully understand the Imperius curse, now…only perhaps the Imperius curse would be more pleasant than what she had experienced. She had heard that it made you feel light and floaty. She had never felt further from light and floaty in her life than when she had been under the control of Riddle's diary. Every waking moment had been excruciating- she had so wanted to confess, to Ron or George or Fred- or even Percy. She had desperately wanted to lay it in the hands of someone older, someone trusted. Even now, though, she couldn't imagine how that would have gone over. "Er.. Percy? I think I may be evil. I don't mean to be, you see, but I can't stop myself, and it's really lucky that you're not muggle born or I might be trying to attack you right now." She snickered at the mental picture of Percy's face at such a moment. She sobered quickly as it occurred to her that was the first bit of amusement she had ever found in that whole fiasco. Immediately, she felt slightly ashamed. After all, people had almost DIED because of her. She felt a familiar lump begin to form in her throat at the thought. 

"No!" The exclamation burst out of her throat before she could stop it. Was she trying to torture herself? She looked around the dank and depressing bathroom. The floor was covered with a good half inch of water, and the single light bulb above the sinks was flickering in a maddening rhythm. What was she doing in here? She was acting if this place held not only the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, but her own absolution. Suddenly, it was all quite clear- she WAS trying to punish herself, lurking about in this nasty old place, pleading with a singularly unpleasant ghost to LET her be kind to her. After all, Moaning Myrtle had never solicited her kindness, or seemed particularly grateful for it. 'That's it,' thought Ginny, and shook her head with an air of finality. 'I'm going to give her one more chance, and then I'm out of here for good.'

She cleared her throat loudly. There was no response from the toilet. "Myrtle, I'm going to count to five, and if you don't come out here to talk to me, I'm leaving, and I'm not coming back. One…two…three…four…FIVE. All right, then, Myrtle, I'm off." Just as she was turning to leave, she heard a small pop! from the direction of the toilet and turned back to see Myrtle's bleary, sullen face sticking up from the bowl of the toilet. 

"Fat lot you care," said Myrtle nastily. "Coming 'round here all the time pretending to be poor stupid Myrtle's friend. Well, I know what you've been up to, I do, and don't think I'm going to let you use me like that again. I know what you want out of me- and I'm not-" Just then a large thud resounded through the hollow room. Ginny jumped, and Myrtle started, which sloshed quite a bit of water on Ginny's shoes. The door had obviously been slammed with some force, and the sound of very angry footsteps sloshing around on the tile indicated someone was pacing back in forth in front of the sinks. Waving one hand at Myrtle to shut her up, Ginny cautiously peered around the edge of the stall door. There, pacing in front of the broken sinks, one hand clutching her wand, the other in a fist, was Hermione. 

Her eyes were narrowed in anger, and her cheeks were flaming patches of red. She ripped her book bag off her shoulder and threw it across the room. She was muttering under her breath. "…stupid, great…git… if he doesn't want…well then, I don't want, and he can just…" Her voice trailed off, and she took a deep, ragged breath. 'Oh dear,' thought Ginny. 'She and Ron must be fighting again.' They had been fighting all day, in fact, and obviously Hermione had reached the end of her tether. Her eyes looked very bright, and for a moment, Ginny thought she was going to burst into tears. Ginny instinctively moved toward her, and then stopped, as the door swung open again, and Ron burst into the room.

Ron looked as bad off as Hermione, and additionally, he was panting with exertion. Ginny quickly stuck her head back into the stall- she had no desire to get involved. She could hear their labored breathing, and nothing else. Obviously, they were involved in one of their famous staring contests. She resigned herself to a prolonged stay in a damp and smelly toilet stall. Ron and Hermione were best friends, but were more often than not at odds with one another. This particular fight had been brewing since this morning when Hermione had received a package from Viktor Krum at breakfast. While any communication from Krum seemed to raise Ron's blood pressure, Hermione had refused to let anyone see the contents, and would answer no questions about it. Ron had been sniping at her ever since. The last Ginny had seen them, Hermione was steadfastly ignoring him, but she had obviously broken in the meantime. Ginny couldn't blame her- Ron's persistence would wear anybody down. But what made this whole situation strange was that, in the last few weeks, it seemed as though they had finally made some headway into a Relationship- Ginny capitalized this concept in her mind. She had known for some time how Hermione felt about her brother- and it was obvious to the most dull-witted that Ron harbored more than friendship for Hermione. Ginny sighed and slumped against the stall. Unfortunately, Ron could be pretty dull-witted when it came to girls. Were they never going to speak? Maybe they could stand there all day and just glare at each other, but Ginny didn't think she could take much more of this. She peered around the edge of the stall door. They were standing about a foot from each other, and Ron took another step towards her, closing the gap. 

"Well?" He burst forth, his voice full of righteous indignation. "Well??" The single syllable reverberated throughout the tiled room, and Ginny flinched. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't move a muscle. 

"Well, what?" she said quietly, but Ginny felt her tone was much more dangerous than Ron's. 

Ginny and Myrtle exchanged a glance. They both knew that this attitude of quiet calm could only mean trouble. Ron paused. Both Ginny and Myrtle leaned forward, peering through the crack in the bathroom door. Hermione's arms were folded over her chest, and her face was deadpan. 

This is bad, Ginny thought. What could have happened to make her this mad? It must be that package from Viktor. Maybe Ron had pushed too hard, trying to find out what was inside. He has a tendency to do that, she thought ruefully. Stupid boys! If he was smart, right now he'd keep his fat mouth shut.

Ron took a deep breath and words tumbled out of his mouth. "Well, what was that? All that, just now in the common room! You just turned and ran and didn't I look like a prat and Lavender gave me some stupid look and Harry was smirking and, honestly, I don't understand girls. You say one thing and then you do another thing and… and don't you pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about, because I thought, well, you know, since we, YOU KNOW, …" 

Ginny's mouth dropped open in surprise. What did that mean? She glanced at Myrtle who was clearly thinking the same thing, and getting ready to say so. "Shhh!", she mouthed at her. The last thing Ginny wanted was for Ron to find them lurking in this stall, eavesdropping. A sudden movement brought her eyes back to the crack in the stall door. Hermione had taken a step toward Ron. It was hard to tell from her face what she was thinking, which Ginny took as a very bad sign. Apparently so did Ron, and he had the decency to look wary. "What did you think, Ron?" She uttered the words so quietly and calmly that Ginny and Myrtle had to strain to hear. " You think I'm a "scarlet woman" now? Because of a stupid package from Viktor? Well, there isn't anything going on between Viktor and I, at least as far as I'm concerned. Not that it's any of your business. Besides, I don't understand why you care. There isn't anything going on between us either, is there." Her voice wavered, and she turned away from him, biting her lip and trying not to cry. Ron's mouth opened and closed wordlessly, searching for words to respond. 

Finally he sputtered, " What does that mean, as far as you're concerned? Does that great stupid prat want…You want to know what I think? I think that I'm sick to death of letters and packages from your boyfriend, Viktor Buggering Krum." He stopped suddenly, knowing as soon as the words left his lips that he had said the wrong thing, but it was too late. Hermione whirled around and advanced on him. He backed up into the wall, and she poked a finger into his chest. "You can just shut up right now, Ronald Weasley. You can't call Viktor names just because YOU can't figure out how you feel. He's a nice boy and he likes me a lot- loves me even- and I won't let you talk badly about him just because you're jealous."

This appeared to be the last straw for Ron. It was the first time in her life Ginny had ever seen him lose color when he was angry, but she watched the mottled scarlet slowly drain away, leaving him slightly gray. "Jealous?" He hissed. "How do you think Vicky would feel if he knew you _kissed_ me?" Hermione opened her mouth several times, but it was her turn not to be able to produce sound. Ginny wasn't sure she was capable of speech herself. Well! This was a stunning development. Something floating in her peripheral vision distracted her from this increasingly interesting scene and Ginny turned to find Myrtle's pale and perpetually scabby knees at eye level. She was floating slightly above the stall in order to get a better view. While Ginny was certain that an entire bag of dungbombs could not distract either Ron or Hermione, she was taking no chances. She motioned wildly at Myrtle to come down, but Myrtle rather ostentatiously ignored her.

In the meantime, Hermione seemed to have found her voice again. "I…kissed…YOU?" she stuttered, spitting out each word like it pained her. "Are you sure about that, Ron? Are you absolutely sure that's what happened?" Her voice had turned smooth and venomous. "Because I seem to recall that it was YOU who grabbed ME behind the Three Broomsticks, and not the other way around." 

The color was returning to Ron's face, and it seemed to have doubled while it was gone. He looked as if he wanted to throw something, preferably Hermione, but with a superhuman effort, he kept his voice low. "So what YOU'RE saying is that you had nothing to do with that kiss? You're saying that you slapped my face and screamed-" here his voice rose in falsetto- "Ron, you beast! My heart is given to Vicky!" His voice dropped low again, and he took a step forward, closing the little space between them. "Is that what you're saying? Because I'm not sure I remember that bit." Hermione took an unsteady step backwards, and her cheeks flamed more brightly. Once more, silence descended on the bathroom, broken only by the steady drip of water. 

Myrtle was slowly floating back down into the stall again, to Ginny's vast relief. She had been attempting to coax her down, but it was a half hearted effort. This was all a bit much to process at once, and she returned her full attention to Ron and Hermione. Ron didn't seem to be able to look away from Hermione, who was avoiding his eyes completely. An unidentifiable emotion rippled through his entire body, and he reached out a hand toward her. His hand had barely touched hers when Hermione jumped back as if she had been slapped. "Why did you do it?" Hermione practically wailed. "You obviously don't want to go out with me- you've made that clear enough. You can't just go around kissing me just because I'm there and I'm close enough to a girl if you squint a little--" 

"What are you talking about?" Ron sounded honestly puzzled. "I don't…I didn't…" He was struggling for words, but something seemed to occur to him, and he abandoned that train of thought completely. "Oh, yeah?" He shouted back, as if he'd found his stride once again. "It seems to me that you're just looking for an excuse to drop ME. After all, why would you want to be seen with a nothing like me when you could have the famous Viktor Krum? You always talk about how shallow us blokes are, but I guess your true colors are showing now!" 

"Don't try to turn this around on me!" Hermione screamed. She appeared to have completely lost it. She had only heard stories of the infamous Draco Malfoy incident from third year, but Ginny had always had trouble picturing Hermione resorting to physical violence. Now she was witnessing it firsthand, as Hermione shoved Ron backward with such force that he stumbled and nearly fell on the slippery tile. 

"Oooh! Fight!" Myrtle whispered, and darted underneath Ginny's arm to get a better view. 

"I heard you, Ron! I HEARD you talking to Dean and Seamus and…Harry." Hermione's voice broke. "I heard everything you said about me." 

Ron's eyes narrowed and he shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about", he faltered. She rounded on him. "Don't you? Don't try to pretend, because I heard you! I was coming down the stairs and I heard you…tell them you didn't…wouldn't ever…couldn't imagine…" She was taking huge gulping breaths in between words, and had wailed the last bit. Ginny wasn't able to make out quite what it was that Ron had said, but apparently this disjointed sentence was enough for him. He slapped his hand over his eyes and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the faded yellow tile, muttering to himself. Even Ginny, who had spent a lifetime interpreting the behavior of her brothers couldn't figure this out. Obviously, neither could Hermione, who said rather confusedly, "Ron?"

What surprised them all was that he appeared to be laughing. He took his hand away from his eyes and rested his arm on one raised knee. "Oh Hermione, is that was this argument is about? Because you know, you weren't supposed to hear that. At the time, I wondered if it wasn't a bit harsh, but it got the job done. It doesn't matter, because you know it's not true. Honestly, I thought we were talking about something real. " He shrugged as he stood up, looking disgustedly at the puddle he had sat in. "You told me to be discreet." 

Ginny stepped back so suddenly that she stepped into Myrtle, who gave her a very disgruntled look. Her mind was spinning. She knew exactly what Ron had done. He had kissed Hermione, who had told him to be discreet, and so he told the next person who asked him about it, i.e. Dean, Seamus and Harry, that "of course nothing was going on! Couldn't even imagine it! Of all the girls he'd pick, etc." She shook her head in disgust. He'd really done it now and he was lucky that Hermione hadn't cursed him yet. Ginny would have. The sudden silence outside the stall made her wonder if Hermione hadn't just done exactly that. She peered around the stall door and saw Hermione was shaking her head. She suddenly looked so pale and sad that Ginny almost left her hiding place to go to her. Hermione took a deep breath and looked terrified at what she was about to say. "Ron, we've known each other for a long time. I know you're not stupid. So when you say things like that I can only assume you're being stupid on purpose. And…I just don't want to do it anymore. I…can't." Hot tears splashed down her cheeks and she wiped at them furiously with the back of her hand. "So, let's just forget about it, okay? All of it. We'll just…go back to the way we were before and we'll pretend none of this ever happened."

She nodded once and bent down to collect the things that had fallen from her bag when she dropped it, all the while studiously not looking at Ron. He hadn't moved since her last declaration. It wasn't until she brushed past him, trying to get out the door that he finally reacted. He spun quickly, grabbing her arm and pulled her roughly back to him. "So, that's it? Clasp hands, thanks for being my best friend and sharing every important event in my life, it was nice knowing you?" He shook his head as she tried to push away from him. "You don't want this and I am not going to force you…" she whimpered. 

Ron's hands closed on her upper arms and he shook her. "Don't try to tell me what I want," he said through clenched teeth. "I know what I want, I'm just not any good at going about getting it. You told me to be discreet, so I tried to pretend that nothing happened. I went overboard and said a bunch of stupid things because, oh hell, I don't know why. What I said didn't even make any sense, and I promise you that nobody believed me." His voice became desperate. "I don't know what to do, Hermione! I'm not doing it right, I know, but it's because… I don't know how to act or, or what to say because…because…I've never wanted anything like I want this."**** He let go of her and stepped back. He crossed his arms over his chest miserably, suddenly looking very young and frightened. "And what if you decide you'd rather have somebody else? I'm not a famous Seeker, or even The Boy Who Lived. I'm just an ordinary bloke, regular old Ron Weasley." He straightened up and clenched his fists at his sides, looking suddenly fierce. "But I'd never let anybody hurt you and you can always trust me and well, that's got to count for something." Then suddenly, Ron grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her to him. He leaned down, kissed her full on the lips, and let her go. "Do you still want to forget it?" Ron tensed as Hermione stared back at him. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Hermione threw her arms around him and burst into tears. 

"Why are you crying?" he asked anxiously. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, please don't cry," Ron said hurriedly. 

"Oh Ron, shut up!" she said, laughing. And she kissed him back, smiling. 

"Right then." He broke away from her, grabbed her hand and started to lead her out the door. "What are you doing? Where are we…?", but he interrupted her. "I'm taking you up to the common room where I will then kiss you properly in front of any lucky folks who happen through. That way we can clear up this nonsense and move onto more important things." The bathroom door slammed shut behind them, but Ginny could still hear them laughing together. 

"Well," said Myrtle's voice behind her. "That was disgusting." 

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Author's Notes: We wish to reassure everyone that there was NO kissing in the common room. Hermione does not permit public displays of affection, and Ron is secretly relieved. We are planning a sequel to this, but we're pretty lazy, so you might want to badger us if you'd like to see it while you can still read without bifocals. Honeychurch would like to thank Arabella for nudging her into fan fiction writing in the first place, and Lallybroch would like to assure Erik no house elves were harmed during the creation of this fic. Thank you and good night. 


	2. Default Chapter Title

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When we last left our heroes…

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The Loo

Part Two: Prefect's Bathroom

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Disclaimer: It's not ours. It's JK's. 

"Well," said Myrtle's voice from behind her, "that was disgusting."

Ginny looked around to find Myrtle's head once more protruding from the bowl of the toilet. Ginny herself wasn't quite sure she didn't agree. She WAS happy for them, really, and amused by their singular way of doing things, but at the same time rather depressed, and very annoyed with Myrtle. 

"I'm going." Ginny threw open the door to the stall and headed for the exit. All of a sudden, a horrid possibility occurred to her, and she swiveled. "And don't run around talking about this to anyone who will listen, Myrtle. I mean it. Keep your mouth shut." She found herself completely out of patience, and unable to be conciliatory with the ghost. "If I hear from anyone about this…" Her threat was abruptly cut off by the flash of a swiftly moving Myrtle flying past her head. 

"Well, I like that!" she screeched. "Coming here into my bathroom and threatening me after what you've done. Heartless, that's what you are. Heartless and manipulative." She sobbed. 

"All right, Myrtle, what have I done? Let's hear it. Did I inadvertently allude to something that made you remember that you aren't alive? What?" Even as she spit out the words, Ginny felt she might have gone a bit far, but she had no control left. She just wanted out of this bathroom. 

"You have no feelings at all," sniveled Myrtle. "Coming round all the time, pretending to be friends. Making fun of d-dead people! You're awful, you are!" A positive torrent of sobs burst forth. 

Instantly, and against her will, Ginny felt guilty. "Aw, Myrtle. Stop crying. I'm sorry, really I am. I _am_ your friend. I'm…I'm just in a bad mood, that's all."

"There you g-go…lying to m-me again. I d-don't know why he l-likes you. You're a _horrible_ g-girl."

Ginny felt rather hurt. "Look, I don't know what you're talking- _what?_ He who?"

"That got your attention, did it?" said Myrtle with glum satisfaction. 

Ginny took a deep breath. This was going nowhere. It was definitely time to exit. "Myrtle. Listen. I'm sorry that you think…whatever it is that you think, but we're both upset and I think it's better if I just leave now before…"

Myrtle interrupted. "You don't want to hear what he said, then? I should think you'd want to know what he said about you." 

"He _who_?" Her voice was shrill to her own ears. 

"Harry Potter." 

Despite fiercely willing it not to do such an undignified thing, her stomach lurched. Harry had been talking about her? To Myrtle? It was the most unlikely thing she'd ever heard. She found that her heart was pounding in her ears. 

"Well, what did he say, then?" She cursed herself for the wobble in her voice. 

Myrtle bobbed slyly in the air before Ginny. "I don't know if I should tell you. You've lied to me." She turned a slow somersault, savoring the moment. She was obviously torn between torturing Ginny and the gratification of gossip. 

"Fine," said Ginny, trying to play it cool. "Don't do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable." She desperately tried to formulate a strategy. "In fact, maybe I better leave, so you won't feel pressured." This was a risky last-ditch effort, she knew, but this was the moment Myrtle would put up or shut up. Stiffening her resolve, Ginny headed for the exit. 

"Welll…" interjected Myrtle quickly. "I suppose…"

"Yes?" Ginny stopped a few feet from the door.

"All right, I'll tell you. But you don't deserve it, you know. I'm just too sensitive. I-It's what got me k-killed in the first place." Myrtle's chin was trembling again, and tears were imminent. 

"Yes, you're very sensitive." Ginny hoped that her impatience wasn't leaking through the soothing voice she had adopted. "Go on, Myrtle." 

"Yesterday I was hiding from Peeves in the Prefect's Bathroom on the second floor-" 

"But that's a boy's bathroom," interrupted Ginny, shocked. 

"Obviously that's why it's a good hiding place," said Myrtle with dignity. 

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The Prefect's Bathroom: Yesterday

"Stop shaking your head at me. You're acting like your mum." 

Ron grinned at Harry. "Somehow I don't think my mum would have let that fight go on as long as I did." 

"Let the fight…honestly, Ron, it barely got started before you pulled me off him!" said Harry, glaring at him. He glanced around the brightly-lit bathroom. "What am I doing in here anyway? I'm not the one who's a prefect."

Ron settled himself against the edge of the sink. "Excuse me. I thought it might be better than dripping blood through the hallways. What was that about, anyway?"

Harry shrugged. 

Ron looked at him curiously, cocking his head to one side. He hadn't seen Harry this angry in a long time. It _was_ odd, wasn't it? Malfoy had gone through his usual list of Weasley put-downs; no money, too many children, muggle-lovers-the usual. Ron and Harry had heard it so many times that sometimes they would recite it along with Malfoy, which aggravated him greatly. But today, something had been…different. Harry had hurled himself at Malfoy, surprising him so much that Malfoy had barely reacted. That is, until Harry punched him in the nose. But why had Harry reacted so violently to this particular encounter? True, it was the first time that Malfoy had ever mentioned Ginny personally. He usually stuck to insulting Fred, George, and Ron but this time Malfoy had said something particularly nasty about Ginny. His eyes narrowed.But that couldn't be it, could it? Why would Harry…? It didn't make any sense. Ron shook his head, trying to ignore the small knot of suspicion growing in his stomach.

"What's going on with you, Harry?" Ron's voice was impatient.

"Nothing except Malfoy is still breathing." 

Ron rolled his eyes. "Look Harry, you know I think Malfoy is a quivering git but I couldn't very well just stand there and let you break his nose. Oi, I didn't even pull you off until he started getting in some good hits!" He sounded a little hurt.

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Moaning Myrtle's: Today

"Wait. I thought he split his lip in Quidditch practice. That's what he told Hermione." Ginny could no longer contain herself. 

"So now you're calling me a liar, are you?" Myrtle's face was thunderous. 

"No!" Said Ginny quickly. 

"Because I saw the whole thing," said Myrtle with dark satisfaction. "Before I hid in the tap. He had the blond one on the floor, and he was hitting him _all over_."

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The Prefect's Bathroom- Yesterday

"Your mouth's still bleeding," Ron noticed. Harry stood up, and walked over to an enormous mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling. He scowled at his reflection. Gingerly, he dabbed at the thin trickle of blood that flowed from the cut Malfoy's knuckle had given him. "Stupid git", he muttered more at himself than Malfoy. Ron walked over and stood next to him. He leaned over and examined the cut. 

"You'll live. Look, it's already stopping bleeding. I don't think Malfoy got off so easily. It looked to me like his nose was gushing pretty heavily." Ron's tone was a mixture of pride and something else. Suspicion? Harry took a deep breath and glanced over at Ron who was now leaning against the wall, arms folded in front of his chest. "So, what was that all about, Harry? Not that I blame you for wanting to beat the crap out of Malfoy, but…" Ron trailed off. He was looking at Harry differently now. Almost…surveying him, sizing him up. 

'Oh, this is brilliant', Harry thought, and avoided Ron's eyes. How was he going to explain why he'd gotten so upset? He barely knew himself. They'd met Malfoy in the hall and he'd started in with all his stupid insults. He was pretty used to that- not a bother on him. And then he'd said that…that… _thing_ about Ginny and something inside Harry just snapped. He couldn't, _wouldn't _just stand there and listen to Malfoy talk about Ginny like that. He clenched his fists again, almost without thinking. All he could think about was punching his stupid face and then all of a sudden he _was_ punching Malfoy, over and over and Ron was yelling and pulling him off. 

Harry stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was sticking up in clumps where Malfoy had pulled it. Harry tried to smooth it down with his hands, mostly just to buy a few more seconds before he had to answer Ron's question. He took another breath and tried to calm down. He had been realizing for some time that his feelings toward Ginny Weasley weren't so much 'I care about you because you're my best mate's little sister' as they were 'Every time I see you I forget how to breathe and I'm petrified because you're my best mate's little sister.' He remembered how his stomach had felt when he had had that stupid crush on Cho Chang. That had been little butterflies and a slight queasiness. When he was around Ginny it felt like Hagrid was bouncing up and down on his chest. And where had all this gotten him? He had practically broken Malfoy's nose, Ron was looking at him very suspiciously and his mouth was turning black and blue. 'Love,' thought Harry, 'is crappy.' 

**Moaning Myrtle's: Today**

"I'm sorry, Myrtle. I still don't understand. What's this got to do with anything? Malfoy's always acting like a prat. I mean, usually it's Ron who has to be pulled off him, but I don't see…"

"Well, you wouldn't, would you? I haven't told you what Malfoy said."

"All right, then, what did Malfoy say?"

Myrtle looked very smug. "I can't tell you. He used some _really_ filthy words."

Ginny sighed impatiently. "Just give me the gist, then."

"I'd still have to use really filthy words."

"Can you whisper it or something? Please?"

All Myrtle needed was some additional coaxing. Certain now that she had a rapt audience, she floated closer to Ginny's ear and whispered into it. 

"That-" And Ginny said a really filthy word. 

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The Prefect's Bathroom- Yesterday

Ron had changed tactics. 

"Like I said, I'm the last person to blame you for starting the fight. He was saying some pretty horrible things. And about Ginny, well, that's going a bit far. I can ignore the stuff about me but he's got no right to talk about Ginny that way. Glad you did something about it," Ron said lightly, not removing his eyes from Harry. " I mean, you really went at him. You'd almost think she was your little sister… I suppose she must seem like your little sister." Ron's tone implied that she better seem like his little sister. 

Harry said nothing. If at all possible, he would avoid actually _lying_ to Ron, but he felt no need to volunteer information. Still, it didn't look like he was going to get out of this easily. He bent over the sink and began to splash water on his face.

"Let's not tell her about this, ok?" He could feel Ron's eyes burrowing into the back of his neck.

"Yeah, ok." Harry straightened up and grabbed a towel from a bracket underneath a reproduction of the Mona Lisa. She winked at him. (Honeychurch and Lallybroch wink back!)

"It's a good thing she doesn't seem to have a crush on you anymore. If she heard about this, she might get all silly about it. You know _girls_." Ron's voice expressed a world of condescension. 

Harry attempted to laugh, but apparently, he wasn't very convincing. He turned to find Ron standing in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest. 

**Moaning Myrtle's: Today**

Ginny had hoisted herself up on to one of the sinks. She was listening avidly to Myrtle, who was describing the fight in minute detail. 

"…and then he just jumped on him, like _that,_ and he hit him in the face—oooh, lots of times." Myrtle was looking happier than Ginny had ever seen her. "And there was blood and everything. But then your brother pulled him off the blonde one." She seemed less happy about this. 

"Then what?" 

"Then they went into the bathroom, and I went in there too. You know, to get away from Peeves."

"Myrtle! You went in there to spy on them!"

"I did not! As if I have nothing better to do than hide places and watch people. I do THINGS, I do." She nodded emphatically.

Privately Ginny felt that Myrtle had absolutely nothing better to do, and further, did very little else, but she held her tongue. There was no point in angering her when this was getting so very interesting. 

Myrtle's whole face went glum again. "And that's when I found out you lied to me."

"Myrtle, honestly, I swear I never lied to you. What are you going on about?"

"You never told me you liked _him_." There was no question to whom Myrtle was referring. Ginny felt herself go pink. 

"That- That was ages ago," she lied. "They were talking about that?" Well, that was just the most humiliating thing ever. She could die, right here, and keep Moaning Myrtle company in the neighboring stall. 

"Ron wanted to know if he liked you back. He didn't seem to fancy the idea very much." Myrtle's dull alto was tinged with satisfaction. 

****

The Prefect's Bathroom- Yesterday

"But it's not like you _like her_, right? Because you like her, but you don't _like_ her, right?" 

Harry started, turning so quickly that he fell backwards over the chair resting next to the mirror. He scrambled hastily to his feet, smoothing his rumpled robes. Ron's eyes were wide. "Harry, that's not a yes, is it?" he said in a shocked voice. 

"What, the falling?" asked Harry in what he hoped was an innocent and casual tone. "No, the chair…it moved…I'm a bit fuzzy after the fight and all… ahem. Yes." 

He began slowly inching toward the door. "Course I like her. She's your little sister. Why wouldn't I like her? She's very likable." Harry waved his hands dismissively. "But I don't _like her_ like her. Because you wouldn't like that, would you? Would you?" He ventured a glance at Ron. "No, no, of course you wouldn't like that. So that's why I don't like her. Like that. Not that the _only_ reason I don't like her that way is because you wouldn't like it if I…"He had finally reached the door. Grasping at the handle he yanked it open and stuck his head out into the empty hallway. 

"What's that Hermione? Yes, I'll be right there. Right, thanks for the help Ron and I've…got to go." Harry dashed out the door and disappeared down the corridor. 

Ron remained standing in the center of the room, stunned.

**Moaning Myrtle's: Today**

"He _said_ that?"

"He's a horrible liar." Myrtle was matter of fact about this. "You'd think he'd be better at it." She floated down to rest on the sink next to Ginny. The light was glinting off her glasses, and Ginny couldn't get a clear view of her expression, but it seemed a bit sympathetic. "What are you going to do now?" she asked, curiously. "Are you going find him and kiss him passionately?" Ginny blushed furiously and shook her head. "Ooohh…Are you going to slap his face and call him a scoundrel?" Myrtle spun several excited circles in the air and settled back down on the sink. "If that's what you do, will you do it in here so I can watch?" she asked, breathlessly. 

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly Myrtle. I'm not going to do either of those things. You sound like a Barbara Cartland novel. I'm…I've got to talk to Hermione. I'm sorry, but I have to go. Will you be alright?" Myrtle nodded morosely. Ginny jumped off the sink and started toward the door. She stopped and turned back to the ghost floating dejectedly above the sink. 

"Myrtle? Why did you tell me this?" 

"You asked me." Myrtle said, wounded. 

"No, actually I didn't. You brought it up in the first place." Ginny looked straight at her, or rather, _through_ her. "You didn't have to tell, you know. I think it was quite nice of you. In fact, I think you rather _enjoyed_ it." And she turned and ran out the door. 

"Fights are more entertaining," Myrtle mumbled, and headed back to the toilet. 

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Author's Notes: Oh, if only Ginny hadn't been so distracted by Myrtle's story. She promptly forgot what had just transpired between Hermione and Ron when she went looking for her. It was highly embarrassing for all three of them when she cornered them in the empty library. Ahem. We wish to dedicate this story to everyone at Sugarquill.com-check it out! Oh, and Erik? Be assured that Draco Malfoy **was** harmed in the creation of this fic and is somewhere calling you that very filthy name. Thank you and good night. 


	3. Default Chapter Title

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Disclaimer: We are the worm. J.K. Rowling is the spice.

The Loo III: Muggle Studies

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When we last left our heroes...well, it's several hours after we last left our heroes...

Ginny was walking out of Astronomy, half-asleep, when the voice of Wendy Ledford woke her out of her stupor. "Weasley!" Ginny paused, and hitched her books more firmly on her hip.

"What?"

Wendy appeared to be overcome by a fit of the giggles. Not for the first time Ginny wished that she didn't have Astronomy with the Slytherins. Some of the girls were sickening. Wendy, in particular, _always_ seemed to be quoting Draco Malfoy. She suppressed a yawn. 1:30 in the morning was far too late to deal with smug Malfoy groupies. "Well, what then?" Ginny sighed.

"Do you know where your brother and his bushy haired girlfriend are?" Ginny stared at her stonily. "Better bushy haired than mean and stupid," she said coldly. "What are you on about, Wendy?"

Wendy attempted to ignore the insult, but her cheeks darkened. "I expect your brother will be expelled tomorrow. Just thought I'd give you the glad tidings a couple of hours in advance." She said with poorly concealed glee. "Draco heard them talking in Potions this afternoon. Planning to sneak out tonight. Not exactly behavior becoming to a prefect." She made a great show of checking her watch. "Filch is probably dragging them up from the North Tower to the Headmaster's office about now." A nasty smirk blossomed on her face. "It's about time that Granger had her comeuppance, wouldn't you say?" But she spoke into the air. Ginny was already pelting down the halls toward Gryffindor Tower.

Ginny burst through the portrait hole and glanced around the empty common room. She had been hoping against hope that Harry would be awake, even though it was a long shot at a quarter of two in the morning. Her mind went momentarily blank, seized with indecision. What to do now? She was running out of time, and she wouldn't be able to find them alone. Besides, she knew Fred and George had given him that old map of theirs. Harry would have to help and that meant one thing. She was going to have to go upstairs and wake him up. Absolutely against her will, she blushed. 

Though she'd tried valiantly to think of anything but, Ginny had been unable to stop Myrtle's voice from running through her head. She'd been distracted all day, and had finally convinced herself that Myrtle must have been mistaken. Of course he liked her. She was his best mate's little sister. He had to like her. But he didn't like her like that. And didn't he tell Ron exactly that? Yes, he had. She'd been determined to put it in the back of mind and act like nothing was wrong. 

Ron, of course, could always be counted on to exacerbate the situation. After Ginny's terrifically embarrassing disruption of the two of them in the library, he'd barely spoken to her for the rest of the day. That is, until dinner when he intercepted Harry before he could sit down next to her. Ron had proclaimed loudly that it was because he missed talking to his little sister and had then proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the dinner. Harry had given Ron a look and gone to sit across the table from them. Had it been her imagination, or had he looked at her too? She shook her head. The time had long since passed since she'd been misguided enough to try to interpret all of Harry Potter's actions. 

She grimaced. What did it matter about stupid Ron and dinner? Another much more pressing issue was at hand-and it included a nighttime visit to Harry. She blushed again, deeper this time, wishing she hadn't thought of it that way. It was silly, really. All she had to do was go into the room and wake him up. She had five older brothers, and it wasn't as if anyone in there had anything she hadn't seen before. When they were little, she and Ron used to take baths together and it wasn't as if you could call Fred and George shy. And honestly, its not like he was going to be naked or anything...would he? She tried to push that mortifying thought out of her head. She was starting to lose her nerve. Then suddenly, she remembered Hermione and how humiliated she would be if Filch caught them. There wasn't any other way, right? It had to be done. 

She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and marched over to the stairs leading up to the boy's dorm. Running up them silently, she hesitated for just a moment before pushing open the door. The room was dark and she realized in a moment of panic that she had no idea which bed was Harry's. She advanced cautiously down the center of the room, glancing from bed to bed. The curtains weren't drawn on the first bed, which contained a sleeping Dean Thomas. She peeked in the curtains of the second bed to find Seamus Finnegan snoring loudly and was approaching the third bed when something soft landed on her foot. Ginny slapped her hand over her mouth to contain the scream that rose in her throat and looked down to discover Neville's toad Trevor gazing up at her. She picked him and carried him along to the third bed. Neville's curtains weren't closed either and she placed Trevor gently on the pillow next to Neville's head. Ginny tensed as he sighed and turned over, muttering softly to himself. The last two bed were obviously Harry's and Ron's. She moved over to the closest one and pulled the curtains open a crack. 

Harry was sprawled across the bed on his stomach, the coverlet and sheets tangled down at the bottom. To Ginny's dismay or delight, she couldn't tell, he was wearing only the bottom of his pajamas. She'd never seen him without his shirt on before, and her stomach gave a peculiarly pleasant lurch. It was so strange to see him like that, so entirely out of context with the way she usually pictured Harry. She knew she should hurry, knew they were running short on time, but she couldn't stop looking at him. His arms were wrapped around the pillow that cradled his head, and he slept silently. A shock of black hair had fallen over his forehead, completely obscuring the scar. She shivered. Ginny hated the scar. She'd hated it from the moment she heard the story of its creation. Ron had told her once that Harry didn't remember much from the night his parents died, just a flash of green light and Voldemort's terrible laughter. When he told her about Hagrid finding Harry amid the ruins of the house, she'd started to cry. She cried herself to sleep that night, unable to get the image of the Potter's ruined cottage out of her mind. And since then she'd hated the scar because of everything it had to represent to Harry. It must be a special kind of torture to wear the reminder of your parent's death on your forehead. 

A sudden creaking from the far corner of the room jolted her out of her reverie. She heard the rustle of bedclothes and then...silence. And then an awful realization struck Ginny. She was standing in the boy's dorm in the middle of the night, staring at Harry Potter. The pleasant feeling in her stomach was rapidly replaced by a full body freeze. She knew exactly what it would look like, and she would never live it down. Especially if Fred and George found out, which of course they would, and Ron, oh Ron would have an attack...and Harry. She could imagine exactly what Harry would think and it was so awful that for a moment, she wondered if she might throw up right there. Of course, if she did that, the only recourse would be to move to America and live as a Muggle. 

Ginny had almost decided to leave when she remembered Hermione. She knew she couldn't find them without the Map and she couldn't use the map without Harry so...she was just going to have to figure out how to wake him up and do it fast, before someone woke up and got the wrong idea. Just then a loud bass grunt broke the silence. Ginny started violently and acting purely on instinct to elude capture, leapt through the crack in the curtains, narrowly avoiding landing on top of Harry's feet. It took her a moment to fully comprehend that she'd just leapt into Harry's bed, and then another moment to realize that she'd been flipped onto her back, hands pinned above her head. 

She heard, "Lumos," and then the small space was filled with a soft light. Harry was sitting on top of her, holding his wand in one hand and her wrists in another. "Ginny?" he whispered, the shock on his face unmistakable. 

"Um, Harry? Could you...um-" She glowed scarlet, and tried to move out from underneath him. 

"Oh, god. I'm sorry." He let go of instantly, and moved toward the end of the bed. "I'm really sorry." He flushed. "I didn't mean to..." he paused awkwardly, 

"or anything." Then his face changed as the obvious seemed to occur to him. "Hey- what are you doing up here in the boy's dormitory?" 

"Oh Harry, I'm sorry I came in here, but we have to go find Ron and Hermione."

His face looked very puzzled. She hurried to explain. "Malfoy heard them talking today, and he knows they were planning to sneak out tonight. He's told Filch already. Look, Harry, I know you have that old map of Fred and George's- I've known about it for ages. I just thought-"

Harry was already off the bed and rummaging through his trunk. Ginny slid off the bed quickly. "I'll just wait for you down in the common room, shall I?" He nodded absently, and Ginny silently hurried out of the room and down the stairs, her heart pounding. Had she really done that? She couldn't seem to catch her breath properly. 

**********

Harry rummaged quickly through his trunk, snatching up the map and his Invisibility Cloak. He turned to run down to the common room, and was halfway to the door when he realized he was wearing only his pajama bottoms. For the first time, he realized that Ginny had seen him like that. The oddest sensation swept over him, but there was no time to think about it. He ran back to his four-poster and quickly pulled on a T-shirt and jeans before running down into the common room. Ginny was pacing nervously back in forth in front of the fire, her face very pale. 

For a long moment, they just looked at each other, and dull crimson swept up both their faces. Harry seemed to have more limbs than usual, and he didn't know what to do with any of them. He shuffled on his feet for a moment, and then said, "Er, look, Ginny. There's no reason for both of us to go. I mean, I've got the map and everything, and I probably know where they're going, so why don't you just, er.." She let him get no further.

"I'm not going to sit here and wait!" She hissed. "You'll need a look out, won't you. I wish everyone would stop trying to nudge me in the corner until the danger's over." Harry opened his mouth to say something conciliatory, but she raised her hand to stop him. "I'm coming. Now let's go." She swiveled resolutely, and headed toward the portrait hole. He had never seen her this resolute, and he wasn't going to be the one to tell her no. She was apparently prepared to charge through the corridors without him if he didn't follow.

"Ginny, wait." She stopped, plainly prepared to continue arguing her point. "No, it's- You see, I've got this other thing that comes in useful for stuff like this." He produced the long silvery cloak from his pocket. Ginny stepped forward, fascinated. 

"It's an Invisibility Cloak," Harry explained quickly. 

"I've never seen one before," she breathed. 

He handed it to her. "We should probably put it on before we leave Gryffindor tower. It'll cover us both, no problem." He felt a choking sensation in his throat as if his entire body was trying to take back those words. What was he thinking? He couldn't run around Hogwarts with Ginny underneath the same cloak. He could barely be in the same room with her without experiencing a complete breakdown of higher motor functions. But it was hardly her fault that she was pretty and funny and Ginny. Besides, she was already shaking out the cloak. 

"Do you know where they were supposed to be headed?" Harry asked, pulling out the map.

"Wendy said something about the North Tower," she offered. 

Harry touched his wand to the map and recited, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Ginny watched the ink lines blossom over the parchment in amazement. 

"That's the whole castle and everyone in it? That's the most useful thing I've ever seen." She reached out to touch the small dot labeled "Virginia Weasley."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He was scanning it quickly, looking for Ron and Hermione. They didn't seem to be in the North Tower, nor to his great relief, Filch's office. He finally located them in a part of the castle he had never been in. "D'you know where that is?" he asked Ginny.

"Sure," she said immediately. "That's the Muggle Studies classroom. That's a good place to pick, actually. It's close enough to a couple different staircases for a quick getaway, but pretty far from the teacher's offices."

Harry blinked. It sounded as if she had put some study into this question. Who was she sneaking out in the middle of the night with? Whoever it was, Harry hated him. 

"Harry, we've got to hurry. How do you get this thing on?" She was struggling with the folds of the cloak.

"Here," he offered. He stepped as close to her as he could get without touching, and swirled the cloak over them both.

The familiar feel of the swishing fabric fell over his shoulders, and he felt Ginny give a small shiver. It gave Harry pause. How many times had he, Ron and Hermione used this cloak? Probably more than he could count, it had become such a part of his life at Hogwarts, and yet it was an entirely new experience to Ginny. He felt a small pang of regret, but he wasn't fully sure about what. "Let's go." He started to move toward the portrait hole, but stopped as he felt the cloak pull slightly. 

"I guess I'm not as used to walking underneath this thing as you are," she offered. "Is there some trick I don't know about?" 

He shook his head. "No, not really. We just have to stay close together and...um." His voice trailed off. With a burst of courage that appeared out of nowhere, he reached over and grabbed her hand. Much to Harry's relief, she didn't say anything. They moved toward the hole and clambered out, coming out into the empty corridor. 

"Which way is it?" he whispered. "I've never been to the Muggle Studies classroom."

"It's this way," she whispered back, pulling him down the hall to the left. "It really pleased Dad when I said I would take it, he's been trying to get one of the boys to do it for years. I promised him I'd give him Muggle lessons this summer." Harry smiled; imagining Ginny in Mr. Weasley's shed teaching him about plugs and fellytones. His smile faltered a little as he imagined how Mr. Weasley would feel about Harry sneaking through Hogwarts at 2 am under an Invisibility Cloak, holding the hand of his daughter. He tried to push Mr. Weasley from his mind. He followed Ginny as she led him down another staircase and around several turns. 

It did make maneuvering under the cloak easier when you were holding hands, but Harry was quite certain that Ginny was the only Weasley whose hand he was ever going to hold. He found he quite liked having Ginny's small, strong hand in his, even though it seemed to occupy most of his attention. His entire body buzzed pleasantly. 

They turned up a narrow staircase half hidden behind a squat statue of smug, chubby little wizard. According to the large plaque affixed to the base, he was named Humberto the Unbeatable, hero of the 6th Goblin Rebellion. "This goes straight up to the fourth floor, and the Muggle Studies classroom is just down the hall." Ginny whispered close to his ear. Not that there was much choice. There had never been so little room under this cloak before, not even when he, Hermione, Ron and Scabbers had crammed underneath it. 

They had just reached a small landing when from below them they heard Filch's voice from the corridor below them. "Peeves! I've got you this time! Short-sheeting the headmaster's bed! I'll have you booted out of this castle by morning!" 

"Not Peeves! Not Peeves!" The poltergeist shrieked. Harry and Ginny froze. That voice sounded uncomfortably close. Don't turn up this staircase, please, please, Harry chanted in his head. Even if no one could see them, they could still hear them, and this was a very narrow stair. 

Peeves was chuckling maniacally, and from the sound of it, hovering just around the statue of Humberto. "What's the fastest way out of here?" Harry asked Ginny in a barely audible whisper. 

"There isn't one," she replied in the same hushed tone. "This staircase goes directly up to the fourth floor. It doesn't let off on any of the others." They were standing side by side now, flat up against the wall of the landing. If Peeves was coming up this way, it was the best they could do. There was at least a chance he'd zoom past if they stayed on landing, but there was no way they could be missed if they got caught on the stairs. 

"Peeves!" Filch's anguished howl reverberated against the stone walls. "Peeves!" To Harry's horror, he heard Filch's footsteps start to ascend the stairs at a run. "Ruddy bloody poltergeist," Filch's muttering was getting closer. "Every time…every time…just shoots right up through the ceiling." 

Harry and Ginny were frozen to the wall, as small as they could make themselves. The clattering of Filch's feet was getting louder and louder, and any moment he would round the corner and be visible just below them. Just then, Peeves' unmistakable voice could be heard back in the corridor below them. "Peeves ain't up there, Filchy!" He crowed, obviously delighted to have gotten one up on Filch. "Peeves didn't go nowhere!" 

Filch had just come around the corner, panting, but he stopped abruptly at the sound of Peeves' voice. He burst out, "Ruddy bloody poltergeist!" one last time, and then turned on his heel and clattered back down the steps. 

Harry heaved an enormous sigh of relief, and next to him, he could hear Ginny doing the same. As if they could read each other's thoughts, they grabbed hands again and bolted up the stairs as quickly and silently as possible. They erupted into the corridor at the top of the steps, and Ginny tugged him to the right. 

"There it is," she said, and moved down toward the end of a small hallway. The large wooden door was closed and loomed high above them. They stood there for a moment, collecting their breath and waiting for their hearts to slow. That had been very close. 

Harry looked around the hallway and pulled the cloak off of them both. They stood there for a moment in the faint light, undecided. Now that they were here, how were they to go about fetching them? Opening the door and walking in wasn't tempting in the slightest.

Ginny pressed her ear against the door. She listened for a moment, biting her bottom lip in concentration, and shook her head as she straightened. "I don't hear anybody in here. D'you think that we've missed them? You'd better check the map again, Harry." He pulled it out of his pocket, and searched it quickly for two small dots labeled Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. Sure enough, there they were, located in the corner of the Muggle Studies classroom, with two dots just outside the door marked Virginia Weasley and Harry Potter.

"Yeah, they're in there, all right, " he said a trifle grimly. She looked relieved, and started to give Harry a small smile. He tried to return it, but couldn't. Harry wasn't taking the silence as a good sign at all. Sure, Ron and Hermione hadn't been caught by Filch yet. But all that meant was the job was now left to Harry and Ginny-a task he was not looking forward to. In fact, he realized that he'd almost rather face another Hungarian Horntail than to interrupt...that. He grimaced, and pushed the hair out of his eyes as he made a mental note to give Ron a good kick to the shins at the first opportunity. 

Ginny's smile faltered. "What is it?" she whispered. An uncomfortable wave of awkwardness washed over him and he suddenly felt very stupid. Harry wasn't exactly sure how to respond. After all, didn't she realize why the room was so quiet? She had to have an idea what was going on in there...didn't she? She couldn't have come all this way thinking that Ron and Hermione were somewhere having a nice chat! 

He cleared his throat. "Well. Um, why do YOU think it's so quiet in there?" He nodded vigorously toward the closed door. "I thought you knew...what was going on with them...and...well..." Oh, this was even worse than anything he'd imagined. There wasn't a shade of red that hadn't paraded across his face and he felt his left eye actually begin to twitch. Harry cleared his throat nervously and stared up at the ceiling. " I'm not really sure how to explain it..." 

Harry gave up. Perhaps the less said the better, but he sincerely wished for a convenient trap door to open up. It wasn't that he had deluded himself into thinking he was never going to have to see Ron and Hermione kiss, but to have it happen like this, and Ginny...she was standing right next to him and he was thinking about kissing. He was thinking about kissing, and handholding and absent pajama tops and he couldn't seem to stop. He rested his hot forehead against the cold stone wall for a moment. As long as he didn't actually touch her, he thought, he might be ok. 

"Harry? Is something wrong?" Dimly, he realized that Ginny had been trying to talk to him for some time. "Harry?" And she laid her hand on his forearm to get his attention.

Her touch was light and unexpected and startled him so much that he whirled around, knocking them both off balance. His back slammed into the wall as Ginny fell into his arms. Instinctively, he closed his arms around her waist. Her hands, which had flown up to break her fall, were now resting on his chest. She turned her head up and looked straight at him. Harry's head was filled with a strange buzzing and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if she could feel his heart hammering under her small hand. He knew he should let go, but he couldn't. He wasn't ready to let her go yet. Of course, he'd imagined this situation before, but it had never been like this. This...this was startling. It was as if something inside his head had switched on. All of the awkwardness and uncertainty were gone now and all that existed was Ginny. It didn't matter, any of it, except the two of them, standing together. 

He stared down into her eyes and wondered how long it would be before she noticed he hadn't let go. A moment later, she noticed for the first time her hands resting on Harry's chest. She pulled them back quickly, blushing, and attempted to move away from him. But he tightened his hold around her waist and pulled her closer. Ginny's head snapped up and their eyes connected. Her lips parted slightly and he couldn't stop himself, nothing could stop it now. Slowly, he leaned toward her, the rushing in his ears becoming louder and louder until he was almost touching her lips and SNAP! The noise, whatever it was, echoed through the hall. Harry and Ginny jumped apart, startled. He quickly threw the cloak over them, not daring to look at her. 

He'd run away if he could, he really would, he thought. He'd never been so intensely mortified in his entire life. What did he think he was doing? Had he completely lost his senses? Yes, that was exactly what had happened. He'd lost his senses, and they might be gone for good, because all he could think about was that she was only inches away, still within kissing range. She was completely motionless underneath the cloak with him. What was she thinking? He had to know. But the silence between them was growing longer and longer, and he didn't know how to break it. Just as he was contemplating chucking it all and going for it, her voice broke the stillness.

"What was that? Do you think that it's gone now?

Harry started. It took him a moment to figure out what she meant. "Er- I guess I should check," he whispered. He pulled the map back out of his pocket and thrust his hand outside the cloak. If anyone walked down the corridor, all they'd see a disembodied hand clutching a bit of parchment. He peered at it in the semi-darkness. "It doesn't look like anyone's around. Filch is still roaming around by the North Tower. " He unwound the cloak from around her, revealing her breathless and a bit mussed. He still couldn't meet her eyes. 

"Should we knock first, do you think?" she asked. Harry desperately tried to control his breathing. He thought he might start to hyperventilate. He didn't know whether to be relieved that she didn't sound as bad off as he was or deeply upset. How could she act like nothing happened? He'd almost kissed her, and he'd thought, just for a moment, that she was entirely willing to be kissed. 

Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation washed over him. Here he was, sneaking through the castle in the middle of the night trying to catch his best friends making out before Filch did. And to top it all off, he was being forced to do it with the girl he'd most like to sneak off and kiss. What a bizarre form of torture- he began to see the twisted humor in it. 

"What I think is that we should go back under the cloak and give them the scare of their lives. They deserve it, making us chase them around the castle at 2:30 in the morning. And them prefects." Harry said. His sense of humor was returning, and with it, a desire for a bit of payback. 

"Should we?" Ginny's eyes were sparkling with mischief. "I don't know, Harry. I mean, it's too late for me, but your eyes are still innocent. There's still a chance for you to avoid permanent psychological damage." The relief Harry felt was enormous. He could do this if they could just ignore what almost happened. Maybe she felt the same way- regardless, Harry was profoundly grateful she was playing along.

Harry grinned widely. "And how did you sustain this permanent damage, Ginny?" 

She hesitated a moment. "I walked in on them in the library this afternoon," she confessed. "I'd rather not repeat that experience if at all possible." She started to giggle. "And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't live through it a second time. I thought Ron was going to club me." She shook her head and dissolved into noiseless mirth, obviously reliving the look on Ron's face. 

Harry started to laugh, too. There was more than a bit of hysteria mixed with his great, heaving silent chuckles. It was such a relief, such an outlet for all the embarrassment and mixed-up emotions he'd been bombarded with this evening, that he found himself unable to stop. "Ok, here's what we're going to do," he said when he could draw a breath. "We're going to check the map one more time and see how close those two dots are from each other." Ginny snorted again, and they were both swept away on another debilitating bout of laughter. "And...and if," he drew a lungful of air with difficulty, "If we can see daylight between the dots, as it were," he struggled through to the end of the sentence, "We'll just walk in, ok?" 

Tears were streaming down Ginny's face. "And if we can't?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Harry said firmly, and then lost control again. 

Both of them were now leaning against the stone wall, unable to hold themselves upright. Harry couldn't remember anything being so funny in his entire life. "Ok, ok, ok." He said, more to calm himself than anything, and tried to read the map through the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Ginny leaned over his arm to get a peek. He blinked furiously to clear his eyes, and squinted. 

"Is that one dot or two?" he said finally, and they both crumpled to a heap on the floor, shaking with uncontrollable giggles. He had developed a stitch in his side, and Ginny was doubled up next to him. 

This was bad. He had to get a handle on himself. He heaved two deep breaths, stood up, and offered Ginny a hand. She wiped the tears from her eyes, and grasped it. Tingles shot from his hand through his entire body as he hauled her to her feet. It sobered him a little, enough at least to be able to think a bit. 

"All right then," he said. He found himself unable to let go of her, so he kept talking, hoping she wouldn't notice. "What if we walk in backwards?" The silliness of this solution struck him the moment he uttered it, and they caught each other's eyes as they forced back another fit of laughter. 

"I guess we'd better," Ginny finally choked. "Ok, let's go on the count of three, then." They positioned themselves just in front of the door, and Harry grasped the handle behind him. Still clasping hands, Ginny started the countdown. 

"One...two...three." Harry turned the knob, pushed the door in behind him, and they started backing through the door. When they had cleared the doorframe, Harry announced their presence.

"Ron? Hermione? It's just us." Despite all his good intentions, a tremor of amusement tinged his voice.

"Come on kids, time to break it up," Ginny said in a dead-on impression of Mrs. Weasley. It was too much for Harry, and he lost it again. The utter absurdity of the situation hit him once more, and he was helpless to prevent the enormous guffaw that broke out of him. He simply couldn't control it. He felt very guilty that it was at his best friends' expense, and he knew that Hermione at least was going to be utterly mortified, but sod it all, it was funny. The fact that Ginny was still clutching his hand, wheezing with shared laughter, placed this as one of the highlights of his life. He knew there were going to be dire consequences for this moment of levity, but just couldn't care.

There was dead silence behind them for a moment, and then they heard a strangled squeak, obviously from Hermione. They shook harder. "Is it safe to turn around now?" Harry managed. Finally, Ron's voice boomed from behind them.

"You'd better damn well turn around now and tell us what the bloody hell you're doing here!" Ginny squeezed his hand more tightly and they both turned slowly. Harry had never been in the Muggle Studies classroom before, but he hadn't expected this. In the center of the room there were desks like any other classroom, but the perimeter was filled with effluvia from the Muggle world. Microwaves, televisions and typewriters were stacked on tables. There was a refrigerator in the corner, and an entire telephone booth pushed against the back wall. By far the largest object in the room was an entire automobile, with the bonnet removed to show the engine. Hermione was still sitting in the back seat. For a moment, Harry wasn't sure he would be able to control himself, although he knew that more laughter would be the worst possible move. He looked up at Ron, and Harry's amusement died completely as he saw the expression on his face. He looked as if he could easily kill them with his bare hands, and Harry knew he had to head him off quickly. 

"No, listen. I'm really sorry, but we had to come and find you," he said earnestly. "Malfoy overheard you two in Potions, and he tipped off Filch."

"It's true, Ron. Wendy Ledford told me just after Astronomy." Ginny chimed in. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. You know I never would have..."

Hermione's face was buried in her hands. Only the tips of her very red ears were visible. Ginny moved across the room and crouched by the car door. "Hermione, please. I don't blame you for being mad at me. That was mean, what I just did. I just didn't think about it before I said it."

"We brought the Marauder's Map and the cloak so that you can sneak back to Gryffindor," Harry said to Ron. Ginny was now talking very quietly to Hermione, and he thought it was best to let them be for a moment. He did feel extremely guilty. "If Filch catches you, you're done for as prefects."

Ron was still regarding him stonily. Harry was beginning to feel slightly irritated. Did Ron really think he got his jollies from wandering around the castle in the middle of the night to catch his best friends snogging? 

"Hermione's crying." He said quietly, as if there would be retribution for this later. "You burst in here, acting like two year olds, and humiliated her."

Harry swallowed.

Ron's eyes narrowed. "And just what is Ginny doing with you, roaming around in the middle of the night?"

Harry could find no good answer to this. He didn't think "I can't say no to your little sister" would pacify Ron at all. 

"Cozy under that Invisibility Cloak, isn't it?" Ron hissed. Harry could feel his face getting very hot. He didn't know where to look. He hoped that Ginny was too busy with Hermione to pay attention to what was happening on the other side of the room. "Ah, but you don't like her, like her, do you?" He mocked. 

Harry was getting very angry. He was sorry they'd burst in the way they had, and he was very sorry that they'd upset Hermione, but after all, they were only trying to save their necks. If Ron was going to be angry with him, he might as well give him a reason. "Yes, I do." He said very firmly but quietly. "I do like her, Ron, and I'm sorry if you don't think I'm good enough for her, but if she likes me back..." his voice trailed off. "I don't think there's anything you can do about it." He finished. He waited with trepidation for Ron's reply, but at the same time, he felt a great weight lifted from his heart. It was such a big thing, his feelings for Ginny- it took up so much of him- it hadn't felt right that Ron didn't know. He had always had as few secrets as possible from his best friends, and this was the one that weighed him down the most. 

Ron was looking utterly flabbergasted, as if that was the last thing he expected Harry to have said. He seemed to have forgotten that his audience included the person in question. "You want to go out with my little sister?" His voice rose with outrage. Ginny and Hermione looked up from the intense conversation they were having by the automobile. 

Harry's face burned, and he couldn't look over at them. But he was backed into a corner now, and there was nothing for it. "Yes." He said simply, and waited for the punches to start flying. Nothing happened. The room was deadly silent. He snuck a glance over to Ginny. She was looking as flabbergasted as Ron. Surprisingly, Hermione seemed to have regained her composure. She got up from her seat, and walked over to Ron.

"Come on, Ron," she said. "We've got to get back to Gryffindor." She grasped his hand and tugged him toward the door. "Come on!" But Ron was rooted to the spot, his gaze moving between Harry and Ginny. 

"Here," said Harry suddenly. He thrust the cloak and map at Hermione. "Take these- Filch must have realized by now that you lot aren't up in North Tower. You'll never make it back without them."

"You want me to leave you here at 3:00 in the morning with my little sister?" Ron said, incredulously. "Are you nutters? After you just announced your undying love and dishonorable intentions? I don't think so." Harry didn't think it was possible to be redder in the face than he was right now, but he caught a glimpse of Ginny and changed his mind. Her face and her hair had blended together. 

"Listen," he said soberly. "We can't all fit under the cloak, and we can't all go back together the same way. We'll get caught for sure. Ginny and I will just get detention, but you and Hermione..." He didn't need to finish the sentence. McGonagall would have their prefect's badges if she ever heard. "At least take the cloak. We'll take the map, and that way we should all make it back."

"Ron, please." Hermione looked at him beseechingly. "Harry will get her back to Gryffindor safely. They'll be right behind us. Won't you, Harry?"

But it was Ginny who spoke. "Ron, just go. I don't care if you're cross at Harry- do you really want to get Hermione in trouble? This was your idea in the first place, wasn't it? What did you have to do to talk her into this?"

Ron looked sheepish. 

"Come on," said Harry. He was checking the Marauder's Map. "Filch is on the second floor now. We've got to leave soon or we'll all be in his office."

Ron reached out his hand for the cloak, and Harry tossed it across the room. "Right." He gave Harry a penetrating look. "But we're not through with this conversation." Ginny looked exasperated.

"Would you just get out of here, you big stupid git? I don't need a bloody keeper." Ron looked at her, shocked. 

"Give me that," snapped Hermione. She wrenched the Invisibility Cloak from his fingers. Ron was now wearing an expression of utter bemusement. The girls had turned on him. A moment later, Hermione swirled the cloak over them both, and they were gone. Harry could hear their footsteps heading for the door. 

"Avoid the second floor if you can," he hissed after them, and then he and Ginny were alone once more.

Harry watched as the door began to slowly close behind them. The realization of what he'd just done was starting to sink in. As the door clicked shut, a heavy silence filled the space between him and Ginny. He sneaked a glance in her direction and saw that she had crossed her arms in front of herself. She seemed to be trying to keep her face as blank as possible. He knew he had to say _something_, something intelligent and witty preferably, but anything to take away the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. Harry felt desperate. He knew that he'd thought at least thirty different things about Ginny today in Potions alone, but they didn't seem appropriate things to say just now. Maybe he should tell her how pretty she looked standing there in the moonlit classroom, or how much he liked it when she wore her hair up and he could see the fine russet hairs on the back of her neck. Or maybe he should tell her what he had really thought after realizing it was Ginny he had pinned to his bed. His cheeks flushed again, and it irritated him. He reached under his glasses and rubbed his eyes, searching for the something to say. 

"Harry?" Her voice cut through the haze in his brain, and jolted him back into reality. She was biting her lip again, and when she spoke again her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry that had to happen. We shouldn't have been so insensitive, I suppose. And, I'm sorry you had to say what you did. I mean, you managed to distract him and…I just want you to know that I understand why you did it. That's all. You don't have to…worry, or anything. " She looked away. 

He was stunned. Of everything Harry imagined she would say, that certainly hadn't been it. And then suddenly, he understood. She didn't think he'd meant what he'd said. She thought that it had just been an elaborate ruse to distract Ron from yelling. And best of all…she was _upset_ about it. He could tell she was trying not to be upset, could see the struggle in her face. A warm tingling was spreading through his stomach. If she was upset about it, it had to mean that she wished it was true. And if she wished it was true, then…well, then maybe this wasn't going to be so difficult after all. 

He almost leapt toward her, but stopped. Her face was guarded again, and he desperately wanted to say the right thing. "Ginny. I…I wasn't lying. I mean, I meant it, you know. About liking you." He felt like an idiot, the words tangling inside his mouth. But she had fixed her eyes on him and there was a glint there that made him take a step toward her. "I didn't say anything before because I knew Ron would be upset and…well, I didn't know if you liked me." The unspoken "anymore" hung in the air between them. Ginny arched a delicate eyebrow at him and looked amused. He grinned and stepped closer still to her. "Besides, you know Ron. Protective is the nice way to describe it." This time she did laugh, softly and twinkling, and it made him shiver. Harry closed the gap between them. He wanted so badly to touch her, to hold her again like he had in the hallway. It must have been obvious because her eyes widened a little, but they were clear and smiling as she tilted her head back to look at him. A stray lock of hair had fallen across her forehead and he brushed it back, tucking the strand behind her ear. He heard her small, sharp intake of breath as he took her face in his hands, and felt her shiver as their lips brushed. He kissed her harder then, and she melted against him, entwining her hands around his waist. The rushing in his ears had returned but it was more like singing now, and Harry realized that he'd finally found something he liked better than flying. 

Ginny was the first to notice that they weren't alone anymore. Harry wouldn't have noticed at all if she hadn't broken away suddenly and looked down at her feet. But as he followed her gaze down to the mouth, he felt his mouth go dry. Standing in the space between their feet and looking extremely pleased with herself, was Mrs. Norris. They jumped apart and Harry looked around quickly for Filch, who was nowhere to be seen. Ginny and Mrs. Norris were staring at each other with intense dislike and Harry got the distinct feeling that this was not the first time the two of them had met. He made a mental note to ask Ginny about it later, and moved carefully around the skinny gray cat. "Ginny. We've got to get out of here before Filch comes. He's got to be close", he whispered into her ear. She nodded and clasping hands, the two of them began to inch toward the door. The cat moved so fast that Harry barely caught it. She stretched out in a pose of feline domination, ears back and ready to fight. 

"Harry, she's not going to let us leave! She's going to keep us here until Filch comes." 

"This is ridiculous. We're being held hostage by a cat", he whispered back. "We're going to have to escape. Come on, what's the worst she can do? She's just a cat, right?" Harry hoped sounded more confident about that than he felt. Mrs. Norris' great lamp-like eyes fixed on Harry's face, and he suddenly wished he hadn't said anything at all. Abruptly, the cat's posture changed. She sat up and turned one ear toward the direction of the door. 

"I think she's listening to something." Ginny said, after a moment.   


"Yeah, probably Filch", he said gloomily. 

Ginny shook her head, still staring at Mrs. Norris. "No, I don't think so. Look!" Harry looked on in surprise as the cat began grooming herself frantically. "I've never seen her do that when Filch was coming. I can't imagine…Wait. Something's happening." The door to the classroom was opening slightly and Harry was amazed to see that it wasn't Filch pushing through, but a familiar ginger cat. 

  
"It's Crookshanks!" Ginny whispered. Harry nodded, unable to take his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him. The large ginger cat strolled in a wide circle around Mrs. Norris, his bottlebrush tail flicking irreverently in the air. She watched him impassively, and waited until he had stopped in front of her to bat a gray paw toward his face. Crookshanks did the same and sat back on his impressive haunches. He let out a loud meow, to which Mrs. Norris responded and for a few moments they were deeply engaged in conversation. Ginny and Harry were completely silent, utterly fascinated by the discussion. And then, as suddenly as she had appeared, Mrs. Norris was gone. Harry shook his head, not quite sure what had just transpired. Ginny leaned down and scratched Crookshanks behind the ears. The enormous cat arched his back and moved toward the door, slipping out the way he had come. And for an instant, Harry was quite sure the cat had winked at him. 

He turned back to Ginny and smiled at her. "This place is busier than Euston Station. Let's get out of here before bloody Malfoy comes prancing through as well." 

"I don't believe that just happened. I think Mrs. Norris _fancies_ him." Ginny was shaking her head in wonder. "I wonder what Filch would say if he knew his faithful sidekick was corruptible."

Harry held out his hand, and Ginny took it. There was no hesitation or awkwardness. It was if they'd been walking hand in hand always. Harry's heart was very full, suddenly. He felt tall and somehow more than he had been a few minutes earlier. Ginny liked him, really liked _him_. It was amazing.

They were out in the corridor again, and both of them stopped to scan the map. Mrs. Norris was now on the staircase they had taken on their way to the classroom. "We don't want to take those stairs again, anyway," said Ginny. "It's too easy to get stuck on them. Come on, we'll go down the main stairs and cut through the entrance hall."

Harry knew he should be paying attention to where they were going, but Ginny seemed to have that well under control, and his mind was preoccupied with more pleasant things. It was a very different trip from the one he had taken just an hour before. He felt almost giddy.

They ducked into corners a few times to check the map, and he considered leaning over and kissing her, but thought the better of it. It was more important to get back to Gryffindor, he told himself firmly, if half-heartedly. 

It was a surprisingly uneventful trip back. They had to double back once to avoid Peeves, and almost walked into the Bloody Baron, but they stopped just in time and hid behind a suit of armor. Even so, it was after four a.m. when they neared the portrait hole. 

"Wait." Harry stopped abruptly. It had occurred to him suddenly exactly what they would be walking into. It was too much to hope Ron and Hermione had gone to bed. No, a showdown was going to be unavoidable, and with a sinking feeling he remembered the look on Ron's face just before he'd left the Muggle Studies classroom. Surely he'd calm down a bit after a while and get used to he and Ginny being…he and Ginny. But he knew Ron too well to expect that to happen for a week, at least. 

Ginny looked at him expectantly, and he towed her back around the corner toward the stairs. "I just want to do something before we have to go in there and get told off by your brother," he said, and he leaned down to kiss her. 

__

Author's Notes: Well, here we are, at the end of our epic. (Honeychurch dabs her eyes delicately with a hankie while Lallybroch looks wan and stoic.) There will be no sequels to this puppy. We feel we've been fairly kind to them. Well, except that Ron is stalking around the common room channeling Mrs. Weasley right now. Aw, but Harry can handle it. He's a battle-hardened veteran who sleeps with one eye open and can soundlessly tackle and pin any intruders. Erik, be assured that no harm came to Trevor, and he is out there having adventures of his own. To Arabella, Zsenya, and the rest of the lovely people at Sugar Quill: you rock, and there is no more to be said. Long live W.A.I.L! Thank you and good night. 


End file.
